For Dwarves and Soldiers
by Saint River
Summary: Tyrion Lannister has a man volunteer to be his Champion. Left without any other options and desperate to have someone save his head, he agrees. Now everything rests upon the stranger who looks like a Lannister. One-Shot


**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own either Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire and Final Fantasy VII. They respectively belong to George RR Martin and Square Enix.**

 **A/N 1: Written for fun within the span of an hour.**

 **A/N 2: Inspired by SaberWolfe's The Mountain and the Saber. If you like this story, go give that a read if you haven't yet.**

"Tyrion" Speaking

 _'Tyrion'_ Thinking

Please enjoy

* * *

 **Tyrion's POV**

The man looked like a Lannister, the dwarf of Lannister bemused as he was escorted to the grounds where his Trial by Combat would take place.

As his wrists and ankles slightly ached from the chains, his thoughts were brought back to when he first met this stranger.

It was after he had demanded his Trial by Combat. Jaime was of no help due to the loss of his sword hand. Bronn could not aid him either. Fear of the Mountain plus bribes from his sister saw to that. Podrick Payne was sent away for his own safety. Prince Oberyn Martell had come to mind. The man did bear a strong grudge against the Mountain so it was not out of the realm of possibility that he would volunteer to be his champion.

After Bronn and Jaime had spoken to him, he had another visitor enter his humble cage. But it was not Prince Oberyn or any he knew.

He was dressed in all black. Tyrion first assumed he was member of the Night's Watch, there to try and recruit him. Tyrion wanted to scoff and tell him it was too late for that. But upon closer inspection, the man did not wear the black of the Night's Watch. His was a different sort. A design he was not familiar with. He only had one sleeve on him. A shoulder pad on the free arm. With that in mind, Tyrion came to the conclusion the man was no Black Brother.

He had the hair and the eyes of a Lannister. Blond and green. If the man was blood, he'd find out soon enough.

"And you are?" Tyrion questioned.

"I heard you are in need of a champion." He said flatly.

"You heard correctly. Why, are you interested in taking up the position?" Tyrion said sarcastically but a part of him was hopeful the stranger would say yes. He did not know the man or if he was even skilled in combat but at this point, he'd take all the help he could get.

"Answer me this first. Did you really kill him? Not the King but your own nephew, your own flesh and blood."

Tyrion had been asked this question so many times he had wanted to snap. But Tyrion suppressed his anger knowing full well that lashing out at this man would be counter productive and Tyrion was not about to bite a helping hand. So Tyrion calmly said, "No. I did not kill him. I wish I did but sadly I did not. That is the honest to Gods truth."

The blond stranger nodded and said plainly, "Tyrion Lannister, you got yourself a champion."

Tyrion's eyes widened and he blinked. It was what he hoped but still, it shocked him. The stranger made for the exit. "Wait, you never gave me your name."

"Cloud, Cloud Strife." He said, looking over his shoulder.

"Thank you, Ser." Tyrion blurted

"I am no Ser. Just a former First Class Soldier turned Delivery Boy." He then left Tyrion alone again.

Prince Oberyn would enter not long after and found his services would not be needed. Much to his dismay for he had been looking forward to the chance of fighting and killing the Mountain.

Now in the duelling grounds, Tyrion saw his champion... pretty much still wearing the exact same clothes he wore when he first met him.

"Why aren't you in armor?" He said very worried.

"Don't need it." Cloud said flatly again. Cloud seemed uninterested if Tyrion wasn't mistaken.

"You could at least wear a helmet."

"You shouldn't worry." A new voice spoke. The source was a brown haired boy around the age of ten.

 _'His squire perhaps?'_

"Cloud won't lose." The boy said with unshaking confidence.

"Denzel," Cloud called, "I see you've met my current client." Denzel nodded.

 _'Well it could be worse. He could be drinking wine.'_

Denzel's peripheral vision caught sight of the Mountain, Ser Gregor Clegane. "That's him."

 _'Ah, yes,'_ Tyrion thought, _'a man of that size is bound to intimidate or even downright frighten a young boy.'_

"He doesn't seem so tough." Had Tyrion been drinking, he would have done a spit-take. _'Doesn't seem so tough?'_ Tyrion repeated Denzel's words in his mind. _'There are grown men who cower at the presence of the Mountain.'_ His eyes drifted to Cloud who still looked uninterested. _'You better be as good as the boy makes you to be.'_

"A former First Class Soldier turned Delivery Boy?" Tyrion went over what Cloud told him. "You wouldn't happen to know what First Class means?" Tyrion asked his brother.

"You're asking the wrong man, Tyrion." Jaime shrugged, "If you don't know, how could I?"

"Well let's just hope that First Class doesn't mean he is green otherwise I might end up a head shorter."

"In the eyes of Gods and Men...," Grand Maester Pycelle started his speech.

"Oh it looks like the duel's about to begin." Denzel pointed out.

"Yes, it is."

It was then Cloud got his weapon. _'By the Gods, why did I not see it before?'_ Cloud's weapon was a sword unlike any he had ever seen before. _'It's bigger than Denzel! Bigger than me!'_ Indeed it was and appeared to have been composed of swords but Tyrion couldn't be sure.

 _'I hope he knows how to use that. Otherwise I could end up a head shorter.'_

* * *

 **Prince Oberyn's POV**

The man looked like a Lannister, he thought as he observed Tyrion's champion take his position.

"You were going to fight that." Ellaria gasped seeing the Mountain.

"I was going to kill that." For over a decade Oberyn waited for the opportunity to avenge his sister and her children's death. When Tyrion had announced his desire for a trial by combat, Oberyn knew he was going to take up the task of being Tyrion's champion and finally deliver the justice his sister, niece and nephew deserved.

But he was beaten to the punch. A blond stranger who had the look of the Lannisters but bore a wore the sigil of a wolf on his left breast while dressed solely in black had become Tyrion Lannister's champion. There was nothing he could do now except to watch and hope the stranger was up to the task.

"He is the biggest man I've ever seen."

"Well he is up against the man with the biggest sword we've ever seen. Now Let us see what this stranger, this Cloud Strife is capable of."

"I have never even heard of a House Strife." Ellaria said.

"Neither have I, my love." And he was fairly certain there was none.

"That is indeed a huge sword he has with him." The paramour pointed at Cloud's weapon, "Perhaps we can invited to our bed and see if that is not the only huge sword he has." She said sultrily.

Oberyn smirked "If he survives."

* * *

 **Jaime's POV**

The man looked like a Lannister, Jaime pondered seeing Cloud carry his sword no differently than most men would carry theirs. He would think the size would serve as a disadvantage but he guessed he would see soon enough if that was the case.

He had blond hair and green eyes. The look of a Lannister. But Jaime was not ignorant or arrogant enough to believe that Lannisters were the only ones in Westeros to have those features.

But the real question was who was he. Jaime knew there was no House Strife. A sellsword perhaps from the Free Cities. Pentos more likely.

But he wore black. Admittedly not armor. It was just cloth. He had the sigil of a wolf on him. Jaime entertained the idea that maybe he was a Lannister-Stark bastard. Jaime chuckled at that. With everything that has happened, that would almost take the cake. But if he was, this was a piss poor way of bringing attention from one-half of your family. Going up against the Mountain whom his father and sister hoped would kill his brother.

Despite all his flaws, Jaime loved Tyrion. He would fight for him if he could but with his sword hand gone, he couldn't even fight for himself. If Tyrion was to live and stave off execution, he would have to place all hope on the stranger that came to Tyrion's aid.

"Let's see if that sword is more than just for show."

* * *

 **Third Person POV**

The man looked like a Lannister, were the murmurs and gossip of the smallfolk in attendance to the Trial by Combat. Already most had come to the erroneous conclusion he was a cousin who cared enough for the Imp and came in his defense. Such gossips and murmurs had reached the ears of Tywin Lannister and Cersei Lannister. Tywin scoffed at the thought. Tywin knew all Lannisters presently alive. The stranger serving as Tyrion's Champion was not one of them. But ultimately Tywin found himself not caring. Let the sheep have their rumors.

"So you are the man they call the Mountain Who Rides?" Cloud said raising his sword upward beside him and pointing the tip at the sky before slowly lowering it down.

Ser Gregor's response was a roar before slashing down heavily on Cloud. Cloud got out of the way and blocked at the next swing. From that point on, it was all a matter of Cloud standing his ground and parrying and blocking every strike the Mountain sent his way.

"Surrender, you can't win against me." Once again Cloud said flatly.

This served to infuriate Gregor into striking harder. Not that it did any good. A few punches there, a few kicks here, some attempts to go around him and stab him in the back. None did any good.

In the stands, the smallfolk gasped and gossiped about the dwarf's champion holding his own against the biggest man in Westeros without seemingly breaking a sweat while treating the Mountain like a boy in training.

Cersei and Tywin glared heatedly at Cloud. This was not going as they had hoped. Tywin for his part was at least grateful he wasn't asking for a confession as he knew full well Prince Oberyn would have had if he had been Tyrion's champion.

Oberyn rubbed his chin, "He is better than I had given him credit for."

"Fine, have it your way." Cloud said in response to the Mountain's stronger sword swings. Cloud disarmed the Mountain with one strike from the Fusion Swords. Then he sliced him vertically in half.

There was no epic fight, no bright flashes, no dramatic last words, no taunting or threatening dialogues. Just a simple disarming and one quick final blow. The two pieces, the two halves of Gregor Clegance fell to opposites sides of the ground. Why just two pieces? Because Cloud wasn't excessive nor violent. The deed needed getting done and now the deed was done. Against a man of Cloud Strife's capabilities, a man like Gregor Clegane might as well have been a little boy with a stick.

All of it was met with silence. The smallfolk were silent. The knights and men-at-arms did not utter a word. The Lords and Ladies were mute. All were stunned at the quick end to one of the most feared and capable warriors in Westeros. Ellaria's mouth hang open as did Jaime's.

"See," Denzel cheered, "I told you he couldn't lose. Way to go, Cloud!"

Tyrion didn't hear a thing. He was just so happy, so ecstatic that he was now free. The Stranger won't be taking him this day. A part of him wanted to leap in joy but all he could do was slump on the near chair and let out the biggest exhale he ever had in his life. He was so relieved he did not even hear his father reluctantly declare that he was innocent and free to go as he pleased.

It had taken the happy shakings of Denzel to bring him out of his stupor and his repeated cheers that Cloud won that he knew he was officially innocent. "A little disappointed I didn't get to see Cloud use any of his Limit Breaks like Omnislash Version 6. But I supposed that would have been unnecessary." Denzel pointed out in a neutral as-a-matter-of-fact manner and a shrug.

 _'Who are these people?'_ Was the collective question of all those present. No doubt they would be the topic of the smallfolk and inspiration of new songs for the bards and singers. But Cloud and Denzel could hardly care for such things.

Cloud wiped the blood off his sword before wrapping it in bandages. Why he did so, none of them would ever know. He spun in a few times before resting in on his back. "Denzel, we're done here. Let's go."

"Yeah." Out of nowhere, Denzel held in his hand a key-like weapon. "I guess this is farewell then." He told Tyrion. Cloud and Denzel started walking away.

"Wait!" Tyrion shouted as he ran to them, "Let me reward my champion. A Lannister always pays his debts." He offered as he got to them. "I have questions."

"We can't stay long. We have plenty more deliveries to make. I will only answer one."

Tyrion thought about it.

Oberyn looked at the exhange with curious, narrowed eyes. It was clear to him now that Cloud did not fight Gregor Clagane for any of the crimes he commited. The Dornish Prince had earlier suspected the man was a foreigner and thus knew nothing of Gregor's crimes and sought out to help Tyrion Lannister for the sake of helping Tyrion Lannister. Oberyn was about to find out if his guess was accurate. "Elia, Rhaenys, Aegon, at the very least your deaths have been avenged."

"Why," Tyrion finally asked, "why did you help me?"

"Let's just say," Cloud said somewhat solemnly, "I have a soft spot for cripples, bastards and broken things." He motioned his head to Denzel that they should get going. Denzel sent Tyrion one last smile. And with that, they were gone as quickly and as mysteriously as they came.

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And there you have it. Review or comment. No flames please.


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